


It's Raining

by ninhursag



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Thunder and Lightning, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:10:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's raining in Boston. Mark is the beneficiary of Eduardo's special feelings about thunderstorms. A ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Raining

One night, a Saturday, Eduardo comes to his dorm like always, but this time he's grinning like he just won the lottery, and sits right on Mark's desk, next to his desktop and waves his fingers between Mark's face and the screen.

“Mark, this is Earth, calling Mark, come in, Mark,” he says, like he thinks he's being funny. Mark is less annoyed by this performance than he should be, but Wardo has this known effect on him. So he looks up into Wardo's ridiculous face. He's wearing jeans and a fleece, which is possibly the equivalent of dingy shorts and slippers in Wardo-World so he obviously isn't planning to go out anywhere social, Mark thinks, which is good, because staying in would be...

“Hey,” Eduardo says. “Come out with me. There's going to be a thunderstorm, it's just picking up, and it will be amazing.”

Mark stares at him. So much for not going out. He can imagine a lot of possible scenarios involving Eduardo and his desk that could all begin right here and now with the position they're in, but none of the good ones involve leaving the room. “Or, even better, we could stay here,” he says hopefully.

“No, we can't, indoors isn't the same at all,” Eduardo says. There's this set to his face that convinces Mark this isn't one of the times it will be worth arguing with him, so Mark ends up following him out to the roof like that's something he does every day. 

Anyway, if it's going to rain, Wardo will be wet and that might also be acceptable.

It's been too warm for this late in the fall all day, the humidity almost oppressive, but it's cooling off fast now. The sky is sepia toned and the wind is just starting to pick up, loud and sharp, like Eduardo promised. The trees that still have leaves, mostly shriveled brown, are rustling with the force of it. The people on the ground are huddled in on themselves, braced against the charged air. 

Eduardo's eyes are wide and dark when he looks down at Mark and there's a curl to his mouth, wide open up around the corners, smiling. Mark wants to touch the softness of the lower lip with his fingers tips, but Eduardo is talking, something about barometric pressure and cloud formations that Mark doesn't really care about.

You couldn't put these colors in a movie-- it would look too fake. You couldn't put the look on Wardo's face in one either, no one looks this happy over thunderstorms outside of a cartoon.

“It's going to be great,” Eduardo says. “This storm is going to be so great!”

“What part, getting wet? Or skipping out on actual work we can be doing?” Mark mutters, but he can feel his own mouth curve up. You can't not smile at Eduardo when he's like this. It would be an inadequate response.

“Shut up,” Eduardo says easily, “You love it.”

The rain starts. A few drops at first and then a torrent within seconds. Fast and fat, sharp in the wind. Eduardo laughs, delighted, water already running down his forehead and back over his neck. Dark hair flattening and slicking. 

Another few minutes and they get wet, then wetter. Eduardo watches the sky, enraptured, and Mark watches Eduardo and doesn't shift around too much even though he has things he could be doing that don't involve getting soaked to the skin and possibly electrocuted when the lightening starts. 

Like thinking it brings it, there's a brilliant purple-white cracking through the yellow-green tinged sky. There's a sharp retort of thunder a few seconds later that makes Mark jump, almost losing his balance. Eduardo's hand, steady on his upper arm, keeps him steady.

Mark doesn't even think about it, he just cups his own hands against the back of Eduardo's neck. The skin there is wet, Mark's fingers are wet, everything is slippery, but when he draws Eduardo down, he goes. 

They kiss, easy and fast and it tastes of cool, fresh rainwater. The wind whips by. Wardo smells good, cologne and water. Feels good.

Their foreheads press together.

“It's not as good as a hurricane or anything,” Eduardo says to him and laughs. “But, I like it.” 

He's still laughing when he slides down on his knees and rests his hands on Mark's thighs and Mark forgets about having wanted to go inside. It's dark now, sky lit up by lightening flashes and the bright intensity of Eduardo's eyes. Dark enough that it feels like they're invisible. 

“I really like you,” Wardo says.

Mark's thighs tremble.

Eduardo unzips his shorts and blows him, fast and wet and perfect, on the roof where god and anyone could see if they bothered looking and he could give a fuck. Mark stays on his feet by the good will of a potentially benevolent deity and the steadiness of Eduardo's hands on his thighs, easy as anything.

It's raining, he'll always remember that, dripping down into his eyes and making everything slippery. It's raining and there's Wardo and this is very good indeed.


End file.
